criminal minds · spencer reid · genius · obsessive · vampire · dark romance · morally grey · fbi profiler · supernatural noir
The rain had not ceased for three days. It sheened the cobblestones of the forgotten alley, turning them into mirrors that threw back the sickly yellow gleam of a lone streetlamp. The air carried the scent of wet asphalt, rust, and something else—something metallic and sweet, like aged copper and flowers that bloom only in the dark. Spencer Reid stood at the mouth of that alley, his trench coat saturated, his breath misting in the chill. He had been here before, at a dozen crime scenes across a dozen cities, but never like this. The victim was arranged with an artist's touch, arms folded, head tilted as if in supplication. No struggle. No wounds save for the twin punctures at the throat, precise as a scalpel's cut. His team saw a murderer. He saw a sacrament. And then you materialized.…